On His Grave

by Farrar, M K

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Poor Ollie. How’s he doing?”

  “He’s okay, but I feel bad that I’m not there to watch out for him anymore. Not that it’s been making any difference.” She rubbed her hand over her eyes, suddenly exhausted. “If anything, I’ve only made things worse.”

  “Hey.” He reached out and touched her upper arm, the contact and heat of his skin against hers making her jump, her heart racing for a different reason. “Ollie is lucky to have a mother who stands up for him. A lot of kids don’t have that.”

  She gave him a smile, wishing in equal measures that he’d both remove his hand and also never let go.

  “Anyway,” he said, dropping his hand, “I’d better get going. I’m already late.”

  She nodded and stepped to one side to let him by. “Yes, of course.”

  He brushed past her, and it wasn’t until he’d made it down the stairs and had left through the front door that she even question what he was doing in her room.

  THE DAY PASSED BY PAINFULLY slowly.

  She caught up on all her housework, and then started on some jobs she’d been putting off for ages—cleaning out the fridge and sorting out the cupboard under the sink. She couldn’t bring herself to sit on the sofa and watch daytime television. Even the thought depressed her. She was tempted to pick up a book and take a long bath, but guilt kept her cleaning.

  When three o’clock finally rolled around, she ached from the physical toil. Her stomach churned, knowing she was going to have to go back up to school and face everyone. She was ashamed of her suspension, and knew everyone would be gossiping and asking questions, wanting to know what had happened. Of course, Rachelle would be more than happy to tell everyone her version of events. People were probably claiming she’d held a knife to Felix’s throat by this point.

  Keeping her head down, not making eye contact with anyone, she hurried up to school. Ollie was waiting for her in the classroom, and she grabbed his stuff and got back out of there as quickly as possible.

  Even on the walk home, she deliberately avoided stopping to talk to anyone.

  Haiden wasn’t back when she got home, and she forced herself to look at the bright side of things for Ollie’s sake.

  “You know,” she told him as she placed a plate of chopped fruit in front of him at the kitchen table, “I always wanted to be able to do this when I was working.”

  “Do what?” Ollie looked up at her.

  “Give you snacks straight after school instead of you having to go to afterschool club.”

  His expression dropped. “I did like playing with my friends, though.”

  She twisted her lips, that knot of anxiety tightening inside her. “Yeah, sorry, kiddo.”

  He finished his snack and jumped up from the table. “That’s okay, Mummy. I’m going to go and play with my cars now.”

  “Sure, you do that.”

  Ollie disappeared into the other room, and she got to work starting dinner. It was earlier than they normally ate, but she figured there was no point in waiting.

  The door slammed, signalling Haiden arriving home. She expected him to pop his head around the door, but instead heavy feet hurried up the stairs. Her stomach sank further. Having Haiden around made her feel better. But then she remembered how she’d come home earlier and found him in the house. He had every right to be here, but it had been strange how she’d caught him coming out of her bedroom. She needed to ask him about that. She was sure there was some innocent explanation, but she wanted to hear him say it.

  When the food was ready, she called up the stairs for Haiden, and then stuck her head into the living room to get Ollie to the table as well.

  “Something smells good,” Haiden said as he entered the room.

  She placed his plate on the table. “It’s only shepherd’s pie.”

  Now she was facing the prospect of being unemployed, she felt the reality of poverty weighing back down on her shoulders. She was going to have to start watching what kinds of foods they ate again.

  “How was your day in the end?” she asked Haiden as she took a seat. “You didn’t forget anything else?”

  He frowned at her, his fork held halfway to his mouth. “Forget anything?”

  “Yes, you were in my room earlier, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. I was missing a t-shirt. I thought it might have got mixed up in the wash.”

  He’d been going through her drawers. That felt invasive. “You went through my stuff?”

  “No, I didn’t go into any of your things. I just checked the laundry basket. I hope that’s okay.”

  The laundry basket had been in her room.

  “Yes, of course. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make a fuss. It’s been a stressful day.”

  He gave her that lopsided smile, and a little of her anxiety faded away.

  “Want to tell me about it?” he asked, his head tilted at an angle as he regarded her.

  She cast a sideways glance to Ollie. “Maybe later.”

  She’d like that, spending a little time with Haiden, offloading about what had happened. He was completely impartial as far as the school was concerned, and she didn’t need to worry about his gossiping to anyone. Of course, she knew it wasn’t something she could get used to. Already, the weeks were flying by, and before she knew it, he’d have to leave, and she’d be all alone again.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  The crash of something breaking jolted her from sleep.

  “Mummy!” Ollie’s cry from his bedroom.

  Instantly, she was awake and on her feet. What the hell had that been? It had sounded like something big breaking.

  “Stay in your room, sweetheart,” she called, stepping out into the hallway. “I’m just going to see what made the noise, okay?”

  “I’m scared.”

  “It’s nothing to be scared of. It was probably just Lemmy chasing a mouse around the kitchen.”

  That was what she was telling herself, but then why was her heart racing? She glanced at Haiden’s closed bedroom door. Was he awake? Had he heard anything? It was the middle of the night. Surely, he’d have heard the crash, or her calling out to Ollie.

  But no movement came from behind the door, and she couldn’t go in there and wake him. He wasn’t their personal bodyguard. Still, it would have been nice to have a big, strong man by her side, but then she reminded herself that she was an independent woman and more than capable of dealing with noises in the dead of night on her own.

  She took the stairs quietly, placing her bare feet on the spots she knew wouldn’t creak. She wished she had a weapon of some kind in her hand, just in case they were being broken into, but she hadn’t even thought to pick up her phone in case she needed to call the police. No, she was overthinking things. The crash had been loud, but it probably was just Lemmy being an arsehole and knocking one of her vases or picture frames off the side.

  She stepped into the kitchen, where it had sounded like the noise had come from. It felt cooler in here... and breezier. She frowned and moved further into the room.

  “Ah, shit!” Pain lanced up through the bottom of her foot. She immediately stepped back again, but the damage had already been done. “What the hell?”

  From what she could see, there was no one else in the room with her, but beyond the kitchen blinds gaped a space that had previously had glass in it... glass which was now all over the floor.

  Kristen reached out, blindly finding the light switch on the wall.

  Glass was everywhere, and in the middle of the glass sat a red brick. Her stomach plummeted. This had been done on purpose. Someone had picked up a brick and deliberately thrown it through the window.

  Footsteps came from the stairs. “Mummy?”

  “It’s okay, baby. Don’t come in here, though. There’s glass all over the floor, and I don’t want you to cut yourself.”

  “Why is there glass on the floor?”

  “One of the windows broke.”

  “Why?�
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  “I’m not sure yet.” She didn’t want to tell him about the brick. Dammit. She was going to have to call the police now. She hadn’t wanted to make a fuss, hoping this would all just go away, but she couldn’t have someone smashing her windows in the middle of the night. Clearly, the same person who’d slashed her tyres had also done this. She hated to think that there was someone out there who hated her enough to try to scare her, but she couldn’t deny that that was what was happening.

  A male voice made her jump. “Kristen? Everything all right?”

  She turned to find Haiden in the doorway. He only wore a pair of tracksuit bottoms, his chest bare. The noise she’d been making had obviously woken him, and he’d come straight down.

  “Not really,” she admitted.

  He spotted the brick and frowned and opened his mouth to say something, but she shook her head and placed her fingers to her lips, trying to tell him that she didn’t want Ollie to know. He seemed to understand what she was trying to say and gave her a nod.

  She was mindful that she was only wearing a strappy little vest and a pair of jersey sleep shorts. She wasn’t wearing any underwear and suddenly felt exposed. The broken window wasn’t helping.

  “You’re hurt,” he pointed out, nodding to her foot. Sure enough, red streaks of blood were smeared on the linoleum.

  “It’s nothing.” She grabbed a kitchen towel and wadded it up against the sole of her foot.

  “It’s not nothing. You’re bleeding.” He reached out to her. “Let me take a look.”

  “I’m fine, honestly.” She was aware of her son still sitting on the stairs and she didn’t want to frighten him. “Let me get Ollie back to bed.”

  “Sure.”

  Still limping, and hoping she wasn’t going to get any blood on the carpet, she left the room, brushing past Haiden’s half naked torso, and went to her son still sitting on the stairs. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s get you back to bed.”

  “How did the window break?” he asked, his voice small.

  “Oh, I think naughty Lemmy must have knocked something into it,” she lied.

  With one hand on his shoulder, she guided him back to the bedroom, and he climbed back into bed. Right away, his eyelids began to droop.

  She leaned in and kissed his smooth brow. “Haiden and I are just going to be tidying things up downstairs,” she told him, “so don’t worry if you hear more noises. It’s only us.”

  “Okay, Mummy.”

  She could tell by his tone that he was already drifting. Another five minutes, and he’d be dead to the world.

  She waited, sitting on the edge of his bed until it looked like he was asleep, and then got to her feet.

  When she got downstairs, she discovered Haiden had already swept up most of the glass. The brick was sitting in the middle of the kitchen table like some alien lifeform that shouldn’t be there.

  “Oh, I was going to call the police,” she said. “I wasn’t sure if we should have touched anything until they arrived. This is a crime scene, after all.”

  Haiden put his fingers to his forehead. “Shit, sorry, Kristen. I didn’t think.”

  “Did you touch the brick, too? It might have had fingerprints on it.”

  “Can you even get fingerprints from a brick?”

  She shrugged. “I have no idea, but it seems like the logical place to start.”

  Deep down, she didn’t want to get the police involved. She didn’t want to be looked at as though she was making a fuss about nothing, but this had gone too far now. Whoever was trying to scare her—and it was working—was also scaring her son. Ollie had suffered enough with what was happening at school without him needing to be afraid when he was home as well.

  But Haiden had swept up the glass now, and she was conscious of the time.

  “Perhaps this can wait until the morning,” she said, suddenly exhausted.

  “Have you got a piece of board or something that I can put in the window for you?”

  She regarded him gratefully. “Could you do that?”

  “As long as you have something that’ll fit and a nail gun, I’m sure I could manage it.”

  She almost wilted in relief. There was no way she’d have been able to sleep knowing that her kitchen window was a wide-open hole. Of course, anyone could just tear down a piece of board, but at least they wouldn’t be so exposed.

  Haiden left through the back door and returned carrying what he needed. Luckily, she’d never bothered to clear the shed out after Stephen had left, and though he’d taken some of his old tools, he’d left everything else. That had been one benefit of him feeling guilty for leaving her for another woman—other than the agreement to divide the sale of the house once Ollie had left full time education, Stephen had been happy to leave everything inside the house with her.

  She helped Haiden get the piece of plyboard into position and flinched at the bang of each shot from the nail gun, hoping it wasn’t going to wake Ollie again.

  “There,” he said, finally, standing back to admire his handiwork. “Now, how about I take a look at your foot?”

  She’d almost forgotten about the cut. “It’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

  “You might have glass stuck in it. Let me look.” His tone was firm, and she didn’t think she was going to get away with not letting him check it. Besides, a part of her longed for someone to take care of her, even if it was only for five minutes.

  “Okay,” she relented.

  “Sit.” He pointed at one of the kitchen chairs and she sank down into it.

  “Where’s your first aid kit?”

  “In the cupboard under the sink.”

  He went to the kitchen sink and pulled open the cupboard door beneath it. He located the kit and brought it back to her, pulling up the chair opposite to face her. Scooping down, his fingers wrapped in a firm grip around her ankle and he tugged her injured foot into his lap.

  Her breath caught, her heart beating harder. She was aware of how close her foot was to his groin, and a flash of the kiss they’d shared outside of the cinema burst into her head. He was only wearing a pair of low-slung tracksuit bottoms, his chest bare.

  Apparently clueless to what was going on in her head, Haiden frowned down at her foot. He got to work, taking out some antiseptic wipes, plasters, and a bandage.

  “I don’t think it’s going to need stitches,” he told her. “Might be difficult to walk on while it’s healing, though.”

  “It’ll be fine. I’ll manage.”

  His fingers pressed into the ball of her foot, and she wanted to groan in pleasure. She barely even remembered the cut—lost in the sensation of his muscular thigh beneath her calf, the touch of his fingers on her skin. She studied his handsome face while he focused on her foot.

  Haiden glanced up and caught her staring. “Kristen...”

  She sucked in a breath. The change between them was intense, as though invisible strings had joined them together and were now starting to pull. His hand left her foot, climbing up her calf and then her thigh, and then her waist. Without thinking, she followed her instincts and leaned into him, unable to resist.

  They crashed together, their mouths meeting in frantic kisses. He tugged her off the chair and onto his lap, so she straddled him. She wrapped her hands around his neck, while he grabbed her bottom, grinding her against him.

  God, he smelled so good, and felt incredible. Though in the back of her mind she knew this was wrong, and that Ollie could come down at any moment, after everything she’d been through, she didn’t have the strength to push him away.

  His kisses left her mouth, trailing across her jaw and down the side of her throat. Her nerve endings came alive, her skin buzzing at his touch. He yanked the bottom of her vest up, exposing her bare breasts, and threw the item of clothing to the floor. For once, she wasn’t ashamed of how her breasts were no longer as perky as they’d once been, or that she had a roll of fat on her belly and stretch marks on her hips. Everything about him screamed that he
wanted her, no matter her flaws, and his desire for her made her accept herself. She could feel how much he craved her pressing hard at the juncture of her thighs, and the pleasure of it made her heady with need.

  Haiden palmed her breast and ducked his head, sucking her nipple into his mouth. She arched her back, pressing into him, wanting more. She ran her palms over the smooth curves of his muscles, marvelling at how he was both hard and soft at the same time.

  He lifted his head from her breast, his blue eyes darkened with lust. “I want these off, too,” he said, tugging at her shorts.

  She knew what that meant. They were going to have sex.

  He must have sensed her hesitation. “Shit, we don’t have anything. You know, protection.”

  She could have used a lack of a condom as an excuse for getting out of this situation, but she wanted him. “Check the first aid box.”

  He arched one blond eyebrow. “You keep condoms in your first aid box?”

  “I didn’t!” Her cheeks burned. “Stephen did. He always used to get kind of frisky in the kitchen.”

  He pulled a face. “That was information I did not need to know.”

  “Sorry.”

  But he found what he was looking for, brandishing the foil packet, before pulling her in for another kiss. This time, his hands went to her shorts, and she lifted herself up so he could slide them down her thighs. She reached for him, too, the loose material of his jogging bottoms already tenting comically with his erection. Within a minute, they were both naked, and Haiden tore open the condom and rolled it down his length. He tugged her back into his lap, the position opening her to him, and she sank down onto him.

  They moved together, slowly at first, their mouths joined, and then growing faster. Their kisses became frantic, their breathing fast and heavy. She slammed her hips down onto him and he lifted his from the chair to meet her.

  The sex was fast and furious, and exactly what she needed. She reached her climax, her whole body shuddering with pleasure, her toes curling against the floor, her fingers digging into his shoulders. He groaned with her, and she felt him jerk inside her at his release.